


Sinner

by SpookySheep



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adult Dipper Pines, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art Student Mabel Pines, Blood and Gore, Eventual Demon Dipper Pines, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Immortal Dipper Pines, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Post-Finale, Writer Dipper Pines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookySheep/pseuds/SpookySheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bill had been defeated and turned to stone things had gone back to normal, but it was the type of normal that Gravity Falls had always been. Bill wasn’t the cause of the town’s abnormalities... He was the effect. </p><p>With the dream demon gone things were still really out of the ordinary, but they weren’t nearly as dangerous. Most of the odd creatures and lesser mythical beings kept to themselves and stayed away from the citizens of the town; especially since only a handful of years had passed since ‘Weirdmageddon’- or so it had been dubbed. </p><p>The inhabitants of the town, both human and magical, had gone back to their daily routines. Their safe, calm, predictable...  boring routines. </p><p>Dipper reminded himself time and again that it was better this way. Much better. Everyone was safe and happy, which was a good thing. Even if it meant there were no mysteries waiting to be solved... No thrill when the pieces came together, no tingle up his spine when uncovering a new clue, no way to recreate the excitement when he explored underground lairs or ancient space ships.</p><p>That was, until, a quick trip to the grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pizza Rolls

**Author's Note:**

> So to start off, please notice the violence warning! It's not exactly violence, but gore I'm warning against... or maybe a little bit of both. I personally don't think I've made anything too extremely graphic, but if you dislike written blood and gore then please continue with cation. It's not over the top or unnecessary; it has to do with plot and is needed for the story. (Maybe it's just a little bit unnecessary)
> 
> There's TECHNICALLY major character death as well, but they stick around, so I don't feel like warning MCD is needed. They're here for the long haul baby, and I'm sure if you've read the additional tags, you know who I'm talking about. Wink wink!
> 
> This fic is post-finale/post-Weirdmageddon. Some canon things from the finale I've tweaked to fit the GF universe of this fic though, such as Grunkle Stan returning to co-run the Mystery Shack, Soos continuing to work with Stan, Ford taking trips to mysterious places around the world, etc. You'll pick them up as you read.

Dipper was halfway to the house, grocery bags in hand, when something hit him hard and fast from behind.

That was when reality went to shit.

It felt like the entire world had suddenly tilted on it’s axis. The forest surrounding the shack seemed to spin so fast the rotation looked lazy to his eyes.

Dipper blinked once, slowly.

The trees abruptly snapped in half like twigs all in the same millisecond. The branches and leaves hung to the left, pointing the same direction they were spinning; which _should_ have been impossible. The top halves stayed attached by little more than centimeters of bark, forming perfect ninety degree angles.

The eerie sound of it alone was enough to raise goosebumps all over Dipper’s body. 

Two beats later the ground the shack was built on felt like it shot into the air at three hundred miles per hour, bringing the man to his hands and knees in the dirt with the force of it’s sudden speed. The plastic bags filled with food spilled their contents all over the earth, cans rolling away and bags of frozen snacks popping open due to unseen pressure.

Dipper fought against the outside power to lift his head. The forest continued to rotate in a circle around him, seeming slower compared to how quickly he felt to be traveling up. 

His fingers dug into the dirt as he tried to gain some sort of hold on this crazy ride. From what he could see everything stayed in the same position around him, which was baffling. It was as if the earth had been shot through the galaxy as the ball in someone's careless game.

As suddenly as it had started, the ground beneath him came to a stop. Luckily, the halt didn’t throw Dipper hundreds of feet into the air like he had feared. 

He did rise though. 

Everything around him slowed exponentially like he was caught in his own personal time bubble. As he began to rise his hair and unzipped jacket fanned out, acting as if he were floating in water rather than air. The forest turned to a blur of green and brown as it whirled around him. 

It felt like he was suffocating on emptiness. 

Pebbles and clumps of dirt nearby rose with him, matching his sluggish pace. Individual pizza rolls rose in stunted fractions, one moment three inches off the ground, the next three feet. 

The cloud cover overhead rolled like angry waves in the ocean, colors flashing. One moment they were a dull grey, next they were bright orange, then hot pink, electric blue, blinding yellow, lime green. A full spectrum of color he thought only Mable could name off while high on Fun Dip. Dipper had never had a seizure before but he fully believed that if he watched the rapid light show any longer he might. 

There was a deafening roar and Dipper fell to the ground as if the deep vibration of the sound alone had popped the ‘bubble’ that surrounded him. He landed hard on his back and what little air he had left was forced out of him on impact. All he could do was lay there gasping for breath and try to gain some kind of understanding on what the _hell_ was going on.

Once his lungs got their fill of oxygen, Dipper leaned up with his elbows behind him and cracked open an eye to take in his surroundings. 

He immediately wished he hadn’t. 

The trees had stopped trying to detach themselves from the soil with the sheer force of speed, the clouds stopped preforming the most gut-turning rendition of a rainbow Dipper had ever seen, and the very air wasn’t choking him. Everything had returned to how it was suppose to be. 

However he found himself weighing whether or not it had truly been so bad as one large eye stared at him unblinkingly. 

“HEYA PINE TREE!” The shrill piercing voice rang through the air of the clearing, making him wince.

Yeah. Dipper much preferred cloud-induced seizures.  

 _Kill me..._ The man thought as he flopped back against the dirt to stare at the sky, rather pointedly away from the demon. If all his energy hadn’t been so thoroughly suppressed by lack of sleep he might have worked up some anxiety at coming eye to eye with Bill Cipher after so many years. 

“TRUST ME KID, I WOULD JUMP ALL OVER THAT IF I COULD. LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE PUNCH ALREADY. DIDN’T THINK I’D GET TO SEE YOU AGAIN FOR QUITE SOME TIME!” 

_Don’t react, just lay here and do nothing, maybe he’ll get bored and go away..._

“NO SUCH LUCK! ALTHOUGH I ADMIRE YOUR LACK OF ENTHUSIASM. IT’S REFRESHING!” 

An annoying yellow triangle floated into Dipper’s line of sight, close enough to block everything else out save a bit of grey sky around the sides. 

Dipper’s gaze focused on Bill’s eye and he blinked owlishly, brows pinching together slightly in an unamused glare. He would have been at least content to lay here and not move, positive that the dream demon would remember he had better things to do than float over an exhausted human and eventually _leave him alone_ , but Bill wasn’t willing to play along.

The first few jabs from a small black cane in his stomach, Dipper could ignore. The next couple had him gritting his teeth. On the sixth the man flung an arm out to wave Bill away so he could try to pull his tired and abused body into a sitting position.

His bones felt like they were solid lead, but after a minute of exertion he was sitting. Now to work on standing...

“Why are you here Bill?” Dipper was surprised at how out of breath he sounded. “ _How_ are you here... Last I checked your body was acting as a creepy garden statue in the woods.” Why was moving such a fucking hassle now anyway? 

“GEEZ KID, DON’T HURT YOURSELF. NOT THAT THAT’S MUCH OF A POSSIBILITY ANYMORE.” Bill rested both hands on top of his cane and floated in a small semi circle until he was face to face with a now panting Dipper.

“That’s not... an answer,” Dipper managed to stand steadily on his feet, albeit not without dealing with wave after wave of dizziness and a side of nausea. The man stood up as straight as he could manage and went back to halfheartedly glare at the demon a few feet in front of him. 

“REALLY I SHOULD BE THE ONE ASKING YOU THAT QUESTION PINE TREE,” Bill rubbed one stubby black hand under his eye in thought, “I REALLY DIDN’T SEE THIS ONE COMING! WHICH KIND OF MAKES ME **ANGRY**.”

Dipper shuffled back half a step in surprise at Bill’s sudden outburst. The demon had expanded thrice his usual size, yellow surface glowing red and single eye widening to shocking size on the last word. 

Bill soon returned to his normal form before turning and floating a short distance away.

“BUT I CAN PLAY NICE WHEN I WANT TO. I’M HERE ‘CAUSE YOU SUMMONED ME. AND BOY, DID YOU MAKE A SACRIFICE I COULDN’T PASS UP!” 

“Sacrifice?” Dipper balked, “Why would I ever sacrifice anything to you?”

“IT’S NOT LIKE YOU HAD MUCH OF A CHOICE,” the demon twirled his cane around one hand in a casual manner and rested the other behind his back as he spoke, “THE VICTIM ALMOST NEVER GETS A SAY IN THEIR MURDER. ALMOST NEVER! THERE ARE SOME REAL FREAKS OUT THERE PINE TREE.”

Dipper’s brain short circuited as he stared at the triangle’s back. 

“Murder...” he mumbled as he tried to shove pieces into places that they refused to fit. The man scrambled to recall the last few hours leading up to before he found himself in this seemingly random situation. 

He had talked to Grunkle Stan in passing about running to the store, remembered making plans to walk the woods with the journals, borrowed his Grunkle’s beat up car for a quick trip and when he returned... When he returned... 

Dipper’s head shot up at the sound of Bill’s grating laughter. The demon was facing him again, his single eye wide and maniacal as his form practically vibrated with mirth. 

He opened his mouth about to ask just what the fuck was going on but was cut off before he could even form the words.

“ **YOU’RE DEAD KID.** ”

Pain like Dipper’s never experienced struck him deep in his chest and he immediately fell to his knees screaming. 

His hands clutched at his chest and tore at his shirt, desperately trying anything to lessen the excruciating hell that overtook him. His back hunched over and every muscle in his body was clenched tight with agony. It felt like someone had broken right through skin and bone to wrap their hand around his heart and squeeze and _squeeze_ until it popped like a bloated deer tick. 

Bill must have gotten bored of hearing him suffer because with a simple snap of his inky black fingers the pain numbed to a dull ache, absolute _paradise_ compared to what it was before, and for a second time that day Dipper found himself taking large gasps of sweet sweet air. 

The man absently noticed his hands shaking as he held himself above the dirt, dark spots forming where his tears soaked the soil. 

“YEESH. THAT BAD HUH?” Bill floated back until he was close enough to reach out an arm and tilt the man’s head up with a small hand under his chin. The demon’s eye was narrowed as he watch Dipper suck in breaths that wracked his body. 

Shit, it wasn’t just his hands. His whole body quivered with deep tremors. 

Black spots started to dance around Dipper’s vision and he vaguely questioned the technicality on a dead person passing out. 

Bill snapped the fingers of his free hand in front of Dipper’s face and the man fought to keep his vision focused on the demon. 

“STAY WITH ME KID, WE HAVE WORK TO DO.” 

If Dipper had any energy left in him to groan he would have. How this asshole expected him to do anything at the moment was a complete mystery. Unless Bill was planning to be puked on... Dipper bet he could do that right now. 

“I HAVE A DEAL FOR YOU PINE TREE.”

This time a real and audible groan could be heard. Dipper was shocked he had it in him.

_Fuck off, Bill._

The demon had obviously been able to read Dipper’s thoughts before, and he wasn’t left disappointed when he tried to communicate through them now.

“IS THAT ANY WAY TO TALK TO THE ONE WHO’S KEEPING YOUR PATHETIC MORTAL MIND FROM SHATTERING RIGHT NOW?” 

Dipper tried his best to glare, but the desired effect was somewhat lessened when on a tear-streaked face.

The hand under his chin followed his jaw back and then came forward to rest on his right cheek, momentarily brushing his ear on the way. Dipper was hit with a sense of comfort so strong that his eyes slid shut in peace and he gave a soft sigh.

“THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.”

Dipper reopened his eyes and _tried_ to glare, he really did, but feeling so content after experiencing his chest being ripped apart, with what he could only assume were the talons of an angry harpy, kind of made it impossible to do much more than keep his eyes open period. 

“LISTEN KID,” Bill’s voice took on a serious tone as he spoke, “IF YOU REFUSE THE DEAL I’LL BE FORCED TO LEAVE AND THEREFORE CAN’T KEEP THE PAIN OF YOUR BRUTAL MURDER AT BAY. CONSIDER THAT PERK ONE.” 

Bill moved his hand up further, running it through thick brown waves; which would have freaked Dipper out way more if it didn’t send such a strong sense of relief through his wracked body. 

“PERK NUMBER TWO WOULD BE THAT YOU GET TO SEE SHOOTING STAR AGAIN. WHICH I’LL REMIND YOU, IS IMPOSSIBLE WHEN YOUR SOUL IS RIPPED FROM YOUR PATHETIC FRAIL FLESHBAG AND THROWN INTO THE ABYSS.” 

A look of panic flashed in the man’s eyes and Bill simply laughed.

“WHICH BRINGS ME TO PERK THREE!” Bill leaned his eye in closer until mere inches separated him from Dipper’s paling face, “A SOURCE OF ENDLESS ENERGY AT YOUR FINGERTIPS, DETAILED KNOWLEDGE OF MAGICAL ABILITY, **THE POWER TO PROTECT THE ONES YOU CARE ABOUT AGAINST ANY THREAT!** ” 

The demon pulled back and floated up until he was looking down on Dipper’s still kneeling form. A hand covered in dancing blue flame was held in front of the man’s face. 

“DO WE HAVE A DEAL?”

With Bill having pulled away the dull ache assaulting Dipper’s chest returned and he had to grit his teeth to keep his face from showing just how much the lack of the demon’s touch affected him.  

It was a manipulation technique pure and simple. Dipper knew that. Knew that everything Bill had said could be a lie, or at the very least an exaggeration of the truth. That didn’t stop the deepest part of Dipper’s mind from begging him to grab the hand extended to him and _not let it go_. 

“What,” Dipper’s voice was rough and weak, “am I giving you... in return?”

If Bill had a mouth Dipper would have bet good money that it split into a massive grin. 

“PURITY. INNOCENCE. FREEDOM.” With each spoken word the blue fire grew brighter and larger in size, “TO A LESSER EXTENT UNMARKED FLESH AND A HEAPING SERVING OF YOUR REMAINING OVERALL SANITY.”

Dipper held the demon’s steady stare for a minute, then two as he thought it over. It wasn’t his imagination that the longer he waited the greater the pain in his chest became. 

“You can’t cause harm to anyone I care about,” Dipper ground out. His vision began to grow fuzzy the more the pain grew. He pushed the urge to curl up and weep to the back of his mind and he pulled himself up, slowly, to what could only barely pass as a standing position. 

“AGREED.”

“I will not blindly follow your every order.” 

Bill’s gaze turned icy for a split-second, “AGREED.”

“And...” Dipper clutched at the fabric over his heart, blinking rapidly to clear his vision, “I will not help you destroy the world.”

Instead of the anger Dipper expected to be met with, Bill laughed slow and calm.

“WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT PINE TREE.”

“Agree Bill, or it’s no deal.”

“I WON’T FORCE YOU TO HELP ME BRING UPON THE DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD AS YOU KNOW IT.”

 _A trick, a trick, a trick._ Dipper’s logic yelled. 

 _You don’t have an alternative._ He assumed that one was his current lack of clear thinking. 

Using the last of his energy Dipper straightened up and stood to his full height, eyes never breaking contact with the demon’s, and took his hand.

“GOOD LUCK, KID. THIS NEXT PART’S NO WALK IN THE PARK." 

△▽▲▽△

To say that coming back to the waking world was a traumatic experience would be an understatement.  

Surfacing back in his physical body- because he knew that was indeed what happened- was like when your consciousness was as deep in the REM cycle as it could possibly be, and then abruptly jerked into the forefront of your brain and forced into full wakefulness with no warning or adjustment period.

Only this was astonishingly worse.

His soul felt like it had shattered in a million minuscule pieces. Pieces that now twisted and climbed and fought over each other to get back into their rightful places.

Dipper focused on breathing, because after all that happened he didn’t think his body would do it automatically, and decided that laying on the ground was the best possible action at this moment; a reoccurring theme of the day. 

That soon changed when the man turned his head and caught sight of the pool of blood continuing to slowly seep out around him.

He lay there for a few more moments, watching the blood, _his blood_ , be steadily sucked into the dirt that made up the road outside the Shack.

Strangely, he found it didn’t bother him. Either his mind was just too exhausted to be bothered with panic, he was in serious mental and physical shock, he had been desensitized to the point where seeing an alarming amount of his own blood flow away from him wasn’t an issue, OR he was dealing with a horrifying mixture of all of the above.

Dipper pushed himself up and took a minute to look over himself to gauge how much of a mangled mess his body really was.

One glance down had him sucking in air and biting his bottom lip.

It was a pretty bad fucking mess.

If anyone so wished to, they would easily be able to stick their hand through the hole where his heart should be.

It wasn’t a clean cut, not by a long shot. Among the loose flaps of flesh and broken fragment of bone that were embedded all around the most tender parts of his wound, long thin muscle sinew hung in and around the hole; reminding Dipper of those fake spiderwebs you can buy around Halloween.

There was an audible _pop!_ and the man watched in sick fascination as tissue and muscle and bone began to knit itself back together, slowly filling in the hollow pit of his chest inch by inch.

Organ tissue formed from thin air and wrapped around itself in intricate loops before tightening and forming a healthy looking human heart. Bone fragments removed themselves from manged flesh and clicked back into place like a puzzle, cracks smoothing over until it was impossible to tell they were ever there. Muscle crawled across his repaired sternum ligament by ligament until not a bone could be seen. Finally new sheets of smooth pink skin made a blanket over the top, keeping everything together as it should.

After everything had been fixed it was almost impossible to believe a gaping hole had even been there just a few minutes prior. The only thing out of place now was the circular patch of skin that was still pink and tender, but Dipper could see even that would soon match the rest of his body.

It wasn’t until the regeneration had finished that he noticed the lack of any pain. He hadn’t felt a thing.

 _Looks like this time Bill is keeping up his end of the deal._ He thought to himself.

Unfortunately, he was still covered in sticky blood. The asshole could create a new heart from nothing, but it seemed that wiping away the wet mess was a step to far.

Dipper groaned and unsteadily got to his feet, hoping desperately that he could make it through the house and up to the bathroom without being seen. There was no way he would be able to explain away his clothes being soaked in blood. 

It was already starting to smell.

△▽▲▽△

Either by Bill’s interference, or just sheer good luck, Dipper was able to sneak through the back door and up the stairs to his bathroom with no issue. Soos had gone home for the day and Grunkle Stan was lounged on his favorite chair in the living room, too immersed in his show to hear Dipper come in.

The hot shower had done wonders for his mood and overall sanity, but now his mind was swarming with questions that demanded answers. The one that came to the forefront most was how the hell Bill was able to come back, and how long he had been around without anyone noticing.

When Grunkle Stan had, for the most part, regained his memories, he swore that he watched the demon die. He even gave a detail by detail account of what happened while in his mind with Bill, and Ford had been more than convinced that the plan had worked without a single flaw.

No one had questioned whether Bill would have had a final trick up his sleeve. Not after everything they had to go through to defeat him.

Dipper opened the door to his room, bath towel obstructing his vision as he used it to dry his hair.

“How was reintroducing your soul into this plane of reality? Pretty fun ride isn’t it.” The towel dropped to the floor in surprise and the bright yellow triangle floating over the unmade queen size bed was met with a comically shocked expression. “Sure, the initial adjustment period makes your body want to violently expel it’s own life force, but personally I think it adds to the overall appeal!”

Dipper closed his partially open mouth with a snap before retrieving his towel and tossing it in the hamper. “We set up wards that are suppose to keep you from getting in here you know.”

“Shame those went null the minute we made a deal! Shooting Star went through so much trouble getting that unicorn hair too.” Bill floated over and flicked Dipper on the forehead, causing a tingle to spread across his birthmark. “Where’s the fun in keeping me locked out anyway?”

Dipper shooed the demon away the same way he would a pesky fly. His hand passed right through Bill’s form and, to the man’s slight discomfort, left some kind of static residue on his skin which he promptly tried to shake off.

“Great. If Stan or Ford see you it’s my ass they’ll kick, Bill.” Dipper flopped himself on the edge of his bed, fighting off the exhaustion that pulled at his mind in favor of the conversation to come. “I don’t know where I’d even begin to explain this... You haven’t told me what happened to me, or how you were able to survive.” 

“Yeah yeah kid, I thought this might be an issue, which is why I’m here now,” Bill descended to eye-level and kicked back mid-air in a relaxed position, “Lets get this over with and you up to speed so this little road-block isn’t in the way of work.”

“O-kay...” Dipper said with no short amount of suspicion, “How about we start with how you’re able to be here now without possessing, or creating, a body.”

“That’s an easy one kid, I’m projecting from your mind. Because of our deal I get a shiny new summer home! Temporary of course, but until we work out that particular hiccup I’m basically bound to you and you alone.”

“So you can go in and out of my mind at will? Without restriction?”

“PRETTY MUCH!”

“You use to be limited to dreams, or the sleeping conscious, or... something, how has that changed now?”

“You act as a tether to the waking world Pine Tree! One INFINITELY stronger than the lone red tread of a connection formed last time we WORKED together. Although not nearly as strong as when I had my own physical form.”

“That... the math in that statement doesn’t quite add up Bill.”

“That’s what you’re led to believe.”

Dipper let it drop. “Tell me how you were able to remain after Uncle Ford wiped your existence from, well, existence. Grunkle Stan assured us you were destroyed when his memories were wiped, I visit- I saw your stone self in the forest; it was still there just last week.”

“That’s nothing more than an empty husk Pine Tree, everything I am was removed from it when I entered Stan’s mindscape. If you wasted your time hanging around a glorified cicada skin, that’s on you not me.”

The man felt his face flush but pushed on with the questioning as if the blush weren’t there. “So, if nothing of you was left in it, meaning your whole essence was destroyed in Stan’s mind, how are you here now?”

“Do ya remember when I had full control of your body?” Bill continued on, cutting off Dipper’s answer, “Of course you do! Who could forget such fond memories. I set up the spell while in there, where it stayed dormant, until STANFORD PINES brought upon my ‘destruction’. When Sixer pulled the trigger I activated the sigils burned into the inside of your flimsy mind before I was completely destroyed. Pretty nifty, isn’t it!”  

Dipper opened his mouth to retort but quickly closed it, eyes going wide.

“What, you think I wouldn’t have any contingency plans in place?” Bill laughed short and loud, single eye crinkling. “You underestimate me kid, just like your uncles. A little paranoia does wonders for the soul.” 

“I... In my- For this whole time?!” Dipper sputtered then groaned and dropped his head into his hands. There was so much that was wrong with this. This whole shitty situation. First actual death, and now to find out his mind had been messed with years and years before by this manipulative destructive dominating...! Dipper was caught halfway between either having a break down or dissociating to the point where life seemed apathetically fine.

When he was younger, when the mysteries and myths of the world were new and exciting and unknown, Dipper would have yelled and denied and pointed fingers and run to Mabel or Stan or just away in general. Now he was older, more mature, more knowledgeable. He knew this was something he couldn’t just run from. He knew freaking out wouldn’t solve a single thing. 

Denying it wouldn’t make the problem go away, wouldn’t expel the demon and it’s influence from his very mind. 

_'An issue must be accepted first, then it can be worked at and solved.'_

When Dipper spoke again it was directed at the floor, muffled from his head still being buried in his hands.

“Tell me how I died.”

“AH, the simultaneously GOOD and BAD part. Good because not only did you DIE, you were MURDERED! YOU!” Bill took a moment to laugh like it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard, “Bad because I have no idea by who, or WHY.”

That made Dipper raise his head to give the demon a disbelieving look. “How can you not know? You just said you’ve been in my head this whole time, weren’t you ‘always watching’?” 

“No Pine Tree, YOUR mind wasn’t the one I hung around in after the incident. I was elsewhere, and because of my _partial_ destruction, I wasn’t able to see anything outside of that prison. When I was set free I was almost just as surprised as you were, trust me.”

“The sigils you set were just to summon you to me then... When I died. That’s what you meant by sacrifice, the exchange of life energy was used to power them enough to set you free.” 

“Exactly! Look at you! Grasping basic magical theory already!”

“But you were surprised it had been so quick.” Dipper stated with a glare, “What if I hadn’t died until I was like, ninety, and comfortable with passing on? What if I had refused the deal then?” 

“You're only a piece in a portion of my many strategic plays kid, I never hedge my bets all on one player just for that reason. Lady Luck happened to favor my side this time ‘round, and you died painful and with unfinished business, making it all the easier for me. You know, I should send her something as thanks... A pile of seven thousand severed rabbit feet!”

The man scrunched up his face in disgust at the suggestion.

“You don’t know Luck like I do, she’ll love it.” Bill made a lazy circle around Dipper and went to look out the attic window, large eye staring at the dark puddle of blood on the road below. “I can tell you one thing about your attacker however, and that’s that whoever it was is no novice with magic.”

“Magic?”

“Yep! Pretty powerful blast of destruction too! Tightly controlled and focused by the look of it,” Bill turned and outstretched an arm to tap at Dipper’s chest, “but still messy. Maybe I’m just a perfectionist, but my spell would have left a clean cut.” A black finger traced a perfect circle around Dipper’s heart. 

Bill laughed when the man huffed and crossed his arms defensively.

“So something that holds a serious grudge against me is still out there, with magic. That’s comforting.”

“As far as they know, you’re dead and gone. Taken care of. I wouldn’t worry about it anyway, considering now they can’t touch you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like it or not we’re connected, more deeply than you might think. You’re mine kid, and I don’t like anyone TOUCHING my things.” A shiver ran down Dipper’s spine, but it wasn’t from fear. He refused to look too far into it at this time. “Technically you _are_ dead, or, at least not alive. So you can’t be re-killed.”

“That’s... reassuring. Thanks,” he deadpanned. 

“'Course Pine Tree, you get something out of this deal too! A few somethings actually, but I won’t get into that now. You’re starting to look like a zombie, HA, so I’ll let you rest. We’ll get into the good stuff later after a nice long slumber.” 

“Wait-” Dipper was cut off by a yawn he didn't feel coming on and he was sure the demon had something to do with it.

“NU-UH! Not hearing it. It’s time I spent some time back in the mindscape while I’m lucid anyway. I’ve been away from my adoring fans for too long. There are NIGHTMARES to weave and FUN to be had.”

Bill began to slowly close the distance between himself and Dipper, his eye wide and manic. Dipper leaned back but there was only so far he could go before falling off the end of his bed. 

“Just hold STILL and RELAX. You’ll SLEEP for a few days, maybe a WEEK, and WAKE feeling BETTER THAN EVER! Sure, Question Mark will see the pool of BLOOD, Stan will check on you, you’ll be UNRESPONSIVE, he’ll call the hospital, you’ll be taken in and tested and held until you come out of the COMA, Shooting Star will be worried SICK that you haven’t talked to her in days, and suffer PANIC attacks on your account, but DON’T FORGET TO REMEMBER! Your existence isn’t REAL and your life NEVER did belong to you! SWEET DREAMS!”

The demon shot quickly and suddenly forward, disappearing into Dipper’s head and knocking the man unconscious instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Bill talking in all caps isn't your cup of tea, sorry. I'm planning to write him all caps while in the mindscape and then regular when out of the mindscape. Then sort of back and forth when he gets all excited and creepy.
> 
> So a quick warning as well...
> 
> I'm awful at keeping up with chaptered fics. I'm horrible. The fucking worst. But wait there's hope! That can be helped! By you wonderful people who decided to give this story a chance! If you enjoyed the first chapter and want to see more please PLEASE leave a kudos, a comment, or even both! I put a lot into my writing and when it gets little to no feedback, I feel like there's no point to even do it. (Writing for fun? What's that lol)
> 
> Just remember that the more attention I get, the more I'm motivated to write, and the faster the updates will be!


	2. Ink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response for the first chapter floored me.... Seriously guys, thank you so much. I wasn't able to reply to everyone, but I want you to know that every single comment made my day. I'm really happy so many of you are interested in this story, and let me just say, there is a LOT in store for all of you. I'm super excited to continue this, and I hope those of you who are sticking with me enjoy what's to come!
> 
> Warning: Improper removal of an IV ahead.

[Thursday]

> **slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:** bro where you at [8:34 PM]
> 
> **slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  dipdip [8:36 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  **get on skype already [8:36 PM]
> 
> **slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  its been like a FULL afternoon where are you [10:54 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  **please, the children are starving [11:01 PM]
> 
> **slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  when will the king return from war and end this widespread famine? [11:02 PM]

[Friday]

> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  **dipping saaaaauce [9:45 AM]
> 
> **slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  dipper seriously im starting to get worried….. [10:33 AM]
> 
> **slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  dipper this isnt funny just send me a message [10:34 AM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  **where are you oh my god [11:57 AM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  **im freaking out dipper please please message me or call me [11:57 AM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  im starting to worry something happened get back to me SOON [11:58 AM]
> 
> **slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:**  im getting a call from the shack, this BETTER be you [12: 40 PM]

[Saturday]

> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  ……. [1:40 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  when you wake up theres going to be hell to pay [1:46 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  youre such an asshole doing this to me [1:47 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  youre not allowed to get hurt dipper, you promised me [1:49 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  before you left to gravity falls you fucking promised you would stay safe and alive and not leave me [1:50 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  these messages might be pointless and… [1:50 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  if i never see you again im gonna be so pissed off [1:59 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  please….. please please be okay…. [2:01 PM]
> 
> ****slightly distressed man in a huge turtleneck:****  you cant leave me alone [2:11 PM]

△▽▲▽△ 

When Dipper woke up he was surrounded by plain white walls and the steady beep of machinery. 

The first thing he noticed was that the room he was in was devoid of anyone but himself. The second was that his mouth tasted like ass. 

He pulled a face and sat up in the hospital bed to get a better vantage point of the room.

There were two doors. The one with the little rectangular window was closed and Dipper could see that it lead to the hall. The other one was halfway open and past it was a small unlit bathroom.

There were a couple of generic paintings on the wall, hung up in an effort to liven the room. A vase of flowers sat on the window seal, slightly dried petals soaking up what sun came through. Dipper knew the bouquet wasn’t a gift for him specifically, but instead a continuous decoration that was cared for by hospital staff.

A set of two plush chairs sat against the wall on either side of the window. A square wooden side table was placed between them with a few old magazines piled haphazardly on top. 

The room was bright with the sun shining through and the overhead lights on. Dipper thought it would have bothered his eyes, but there wasn’t so much as a hint of a headache or dizziness. Either the hospital had him on the good drugs, which was unlikely, or something else was afoot. 

He turned his surveillance from the room to himself.

He was dressed in a thin hospital gown, one of the embarrassing ones with the back completely open save for a few ties. A cheap and uncomfortable white sheet covered him from the waist down, with a grey wool blanket over the top.

A nasal cannula was hooked around his face, set up to an oxygen machine by the bed, and an IV pumped fluids into his system through the side of his right wrist. 

Dipper felt sticky pads on his chest, and followed the cords with his eyes to a screen that showed his heart rate, heart rhythm, oxygenation, and blood pressure. 

It was all standard practice for inpatients, he knew, but for him it was pointless; bordering on excessive.

Dipper kicked off his blankets, feeling too warm and slightly claustrophobic. His left arm twisted slightly with the movement and a flash of black he hadn’t noticed before caught his eye. 

His gaze snapped to the pale skin and he hoped that it was nothing more than sharpie. A patient number from the hospital, some kind of an identification symbol-- he’d even take it as a little message Soos wrote on him to see after he woke up--  _anything_ other than what he'd already known it was through critical thinking.

Confident steady lines formed symbols and runes that danced across his skin in intricate patterns and geometric shapes. Some of the magic symbols Dipper knew by name and others he faintly recognized, but the majority he had never seen before, not even within the pages of the journals. 

In the dead center of his arm, right before the inside of his elbow, sat a perfectly equilateral triangle with one wide-open eye in the middle.

The sigils and runes formed a vortex around the triangle, placed in such a way that they drew the eye directly to it. There was no bow, no top hat or appendages like arms or leg-- hell, it didn’t even have eyelashes-- but it was dead fucking obvious who the triangle was to anyone who had seen him before.

Which would be: all of Gravity Falls.

_“...UNMARKED FLESH...”_

Dipper suddenly felt sick.

The heart rate monitor picked up the pace as it output the speed of his heart and Dipper ripped off the electrodes on his chest to quiet the loud beeping, uncaring if it brought a nurse. It was annoying and he couldn’t deal with it right now.

The high whine of the flat-line wasn't much better, in hindsight. 

He tore at the plastic cannula and threw it to the floor, where it landed in pieces.

After he was untangled from the mess of machinery, he jumped out of the stiff bed, and walked quickly to the bathroom. The IV popped out of his wrist on the way, and a small amount of fluid dribbled from the end of the needle and from the hole it left in his skin. It didn’t hurt. Dipper couldn’t feel a thing.

It served as a reminder that he wasn't the same as he had been, that he was changed on a physical level, and it made him angrier. 

When he reached the bathroom, he slammed the door shut behind him and locked it. A decent sized mirror hung above the porcelain sink, bolted to the wall. 

Dipper fought with the gown for a moment, ripping the ties when they didn’t come undone immediately. The sheet of fabric fell to the floor and the man looked over his naked body. 

His eye was immediately drawn to an inky circle that covered the place on his chest where his gaping wound had been. It was a large sigil, with layers of writing that curved around and around. Outside the boundaries of sigil, two simple thin rings looped the piece, vanishing where they would overlap the ink and reforming on the other side of it. 

The outer bands had words in Latin. An incantation Dipper couldn’t focus on enough to translate, not that he knew that much Latin to begin with. 

Latin turned to Elder Futhark, some of the same type of runes he saw on his arm, as the layers went further in. The rings grew smaller and smaller in size as they reached the middle, until a circle only an inch in diameter was left. 

Unsurprisingly, another triangle was placed in the center of this mark. Dipper squinted at it. This one was a complete copy of Bill’s favored form. Stupid hat, stupider bow tie, and stupid single eye topped with tiny eyelashes.

A knock on the door startled him out of his intense examination and he jumped back from the sink.

“Sir?” The concerned voice of a woman came from outside and Dipper assumed it was a nurse. “Is everything all right? Do you need me to come in?”

“Uh, no, no I’m okay,” His voice was more gravely than it had ever been and he cleared his throat before continuing, “I just felt a little sick, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“I understand, take your time. There’s a call button on the wall right next to the shower, don’t hesitate to press it if you need assistance.” 

Footsteps moved away from the door, but he could hear that she didn’t leave the room. It was a bit of a surprise how good his hearing was... Or maybe the walls here were just thinner than usual.

Dipper bent to pick up the gown and slid it over his shoulders, turning around to use the mirror to help retie what strips of fabric were left.

He froze when he caught sight of even more writing on his back. A quick glance told him it was more Latin; a paragraph of the language over his right shoulder. 

He quietly mumbled curses to himself and shook his head as he finished up tying the hospital robe with more force than was necessary.

When he reentered the room he noticed the nurse standing by the end of the bed and writing something down on his patient clipboard. She glanced at him when she heard the door open and gave a warm smile before finishing up and placing it back in it’s plastic holder.

“Please, sit.” She motioned to the bed, “I want to run some tests and make sure your vitals are okay. You’ve been quite the mysterious case, you know. No one could tell what the problem was.”

Dipper forced a laugh as he returned to the bed and sat back against the pillows. “Yeah I... I don’t really know what happened either. I just suddenly woke up here.” The excuse sounded weak to his own ears, but the nurse showed no sign of suspicion. 

“That’s not uncommon for coma patients, dear.” Dipper swallowed. “Now, lay back and relax. These are simple and quick tests.”

Dipper calmed himself as much as he could as she took his temperature and blood pressure. She reattached new sticky pads and he noticed his heart rate was still accelerated. The beeps got on his nerves and he grit his teeth. 

“Oh...” Dipper turned to her at the exclamation and saw her holding a large needle and looking at his wrist with pinched eyebrows, “That’s odd... Your IV puncture has already healed up completely.”

She looked at him questioningly and he pulled his arm away and held it against his chest with another short laugh. 

“Um, yeah weird! I don’t need that though, I can drink just fine.”

“Sir, you just woke up. It would be dangerous for you to ingest fluids or foods so soon aft-”

“Really, I’m fine,” He cut in, “I’ll be okay, I promise. I... I just hate needles.” A lie. Dipper half-expected her to eye the ‘tattoos’ at his comment, but she never even gave them a glace. 

She nodded and finished the last of the tests soon after, leaving him to rest. She mentioned calling the family that brought him in, which was Stan, and left him a glass of water on the table by his bed before she left. 

When the door to the hall shut Dipper let out a long sigh and slumped into the pillows behind him. He buried his face in his hands and tried to think about how he’d explain the new marks that littered his body.

The ones on his chest and back were easy enough to cover, but his forearm... _Fuck._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK._

Grunkle Stan was sure to recognize Bill. There was no question. 

Dipper entertained the thought of saying it was a spur of the moment memento-- a tattoo to mark an important part of his life, along with the magical symbols and spells and runes he has such an interest in-- but that would make it sound like he was commemorating Bill Cipher, the demon that almost killed his whole family.

It looked for all the world like Dipper actually _wanted_ the asshole forever painted on his skin. Stan wouldn’t take it very well. 

“Hey kid! Like the new ink? I think I did a pretty good job, but design isn’t my strongest skill.” 

Dipper didn’t want to look up.

Ignoring him hadn’t worked last time, and it wouldn’t work now; but pretending his problems didn’t exist had always been so tempting. 

Tempting, but useless.

Dipper dropped his hands and met Bill’s eye.

“Geez, if looks could KILL! Well actually, if you aren’t a complete failure, pretty soon yours will,” Bill took a seat on top of the heart monitor, making himself at home, “but let me not get ahead of myself. Overestimating you will just stress me out.” 

Dipper ignored the jab and swallowed down as much of his anger and anxiety as he could, “Bill, How the fuck am I suppose to explain this,” He wildly gestured to his marked up arm, “to Grunkle Stan?!”

“Whoa Pine Tree, watch the blood pressure,” Bill tapped the screen with his cane, “Relax! Only you and I can see the imprints of our working relationship.”

The door to his room opened and Dipper squeaked in surprise, his wide eyes darting from the door to Bill, who _wasn’t disappearing_ , and back again. 

A different nurse than the one from before entered carrying a tray of light looking food. Mashed potatoes, green jello, and a serving of brown rice. 

“Hello! I’m glad to see you’re awake,” She greeted kindly and set the tray on a raised platform at the end of the bed, “Tammy said you seemed to be recovering very quickly, so you’ve been cleared to eat solid foods.” The nurse moved the platform closer so it was positioned over Dipper’s lap.

When all she was met with was silence and shifting eyes, she looked over her shoulder at where he kept glancing. Dipper’s muscles tensed up and his mind started flooding with partially formed plans for how to deal with someone seeing a bright yellow living triangle with one working eye. 

Except... it was like she looked right through him.

She turned back to Dipper and opened her mouth to ask him if everything was okay but Dipper spoke before she could.

“Thanks! Thank you, uh, I’ll get right on that, thanks.” He bit his lip to shut himself up and gave more of a grimace than a smile. 

The nurse looked a little off-put but said nothing about his strange behavior. She alerted him that his uncle had been called and that he was already on his way to the hospital to visit before leaving the room. 

The only health center within the town lines of Gravity Falls was a clinic ran by one doctor; a small building that was under-funded and under-staffed. Dipper was positive that he had been admitted to the much larger facility on the outskirts of the next town over, which was about a thirty minute drive from the Shack. 

The man pushed the platform with the tray away and gave Bill a confused look.

The demon gave his version of a shrug, his eye upturned in a grin. “Like I said, I project from your mind. No one else can see me. At least, no human. Works the same with the imprints.”

“So when I’m talking to you in public I’ll just look like a crazy person instead of a demon summoner. Great.” 

“It isn’t the worst thing you’ve been labeled!”

Dipper winced. That was true enough. 

“One less thing to worry about I guess... Best I could come up with in terms of an explanation was that I set out to get you tattooed on my body on purpose. Stan would’ve been furious. It’s a pretty weak excuse anyway. No one in their right mind would get _you_ as a tattoo.”

The demon laughed. “You aren’t in your right mind, kid,” Bill dropped down to hover over the discarded food, “And you’d be surprised to hear just how many meatsacks in this dimension work as a window for me to stare out of. It’s humbling.”

Dipper scoffed, “’Bill Cipher’ and ‘humble’ will never go together.”

“You seem pretty sure of that for only having sentience for, what, eighteen years?”

“Twenty, actually. If we’re assuming humans are sentient at birth.”

“Huh...” The finger that was poking the jello mound halted as Bill stared off in thought, “Well, there goes my valuable collection of fermented drinks. Those were a real PAIN to get too! Not for me, I mean.”

“Fermented drinks?” Dipper was utterly lost. “Like, wine? What are you talking about?”

“Ha! Wine! You’re hilarious Pine Tree.”

Dipper thought back on the conversation as he watched Bill make a mess of the food on the tray; trying to make sense of the direction it had taken. Many things could be fermented, he guessed... Taking into account that it was _Bill_  who was part of the equation made him let the topic lie. 

It was probably better not to know anyway. 

Dipper traced the lines of the triangle on his arm with his finger tips, brushing over the inky shape again and again in a pattern as he reflected on the past few... hours? Days? He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious. Could it have been weeks? 

His hand froze as a thought came to his mind and he snapped his head up, eyes wide, as he thought of Mabel. 

_“...Shooting Star will be worried SICK that you haven’t talked to her in days, and suffer PANIC attacks on your account...”_

Strangely, Bill had turned his attention from the food and was staring at Dipper with a blank expression when the man had returned his gaze to the demon.

“How long have I been asleep.” It wasn’t presented as a question.

“About a week,” A glob of mashed potato fell from the demon’s small pointer finger as he replied.

“A _week,_ ” Dipper squeaked. Mable was going to kill him. Ever since they had split up when she decided to pursue art school and he decided higher education wasn’t for him, they had Skyped all day, every day. From the time he woke up till the time she went to sleep, they were messaging. Excluding, of course, when he had a shift or she had classes. 

“Six days, four hours, thirty seven minutes, three seconds, right NOW, exactly,” Bill rang off, “In case you were wondering.”

Mable would have called The Shack and talked to Stan by now. Dipper wouldn’t be surprised if she had called the first day he went missing. She for sure knew he had been taken to the hospital and was in a sort-of-coma. Which wasn’t exactly the most calming news, but at least she wasn’t kept in the dark where her vivid imagination could come up with all kinds of horrible things. 

In a moment of conditioned reflex, Dipper’s hand reached out to grab his phone, which was usually plugged in and sitting on the bookcase by his bed. This wasn’t his bed though, and he wasn’t in his room. He didn’t have his phone, and therefore couldn’t call up his twin. 

“Shit...” He mumbled, eyebrows drawn with worry. His hand found the imprint on his arm again without having to think about it, thumb rubbing circles over the minimalist triangle as he chewed on his bottom lip. 

“Kid.” Dipper met the demon’s eye, “Cut that out.”

The man followed Bill’s gaze to where he was rubbing on his arm, stress bleeding into confusion. 

“Why?” Dipper’s movements slowed down, but didn’t stop completely. He watched Bill’s expression more closely than he had been. The demon didn’t look angry or irritated per say-- He seemed more absorbed in his own mind, like Dipper was before Bill got his attention. 

“Because I can feel that.” 

“Oh...” The hand was removed and he peered at the mark blankly, “Weird.”

In a flash Bill had a grip on Dipper’s wrist and was glaring at his depiction. His sudden change in location startled the man, who jumped, but otherwise let the demon stay.

“So...” Dipper cleared his throat awkwardly after a few long seconds of silence. Bill hadn’t so much as shifted since he started inspecting the mark, and it was weirding him out. “This wasn’t something you expected to happen I take it?”

Bill blinked but didn’t answer. The hand the demon didn’t currently have holding onto Dipper’s wrist hovered over the heart of the piece, as if he hesitated to touch it. 

“Et nomen meum ostende mihi quod intrinsecus opus de haec incantamentum.” The demon waved a hand over the imprint as he lowly chanted in Latin. Dipper couldn’t understand most of it, but picked out ‘name’, ‘show’, and ‘spell’. 

The black lines of the imprint began to glow a cool blue, sigils and writing shimmering with a light that rivaled the brightness of the sunlit room. When the glow died off and the imprint was visible again, the man saw that the once black marks looked like they had been painted on with liquid gold. The color was vibrant and had a faint shimmer instead of the matte it was before. It reminded him of one of Mabel’s nail polishes.

Bill’s eye was wide and focused as he stared at the imprint. All Dipper could see was the change in color and texture, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the demon could pick up on things he couldn’t.

“That’s... new,” Bill broke his silence. With another wave of the demon’s hand the gold tone dissipated, peeling off in small flakes that were whisked away by a breeze Dipper couldn’t feel. Left behind were the normal black lines that had littered Dipper’s skin previously. “I knew you’d be different Pine Tree, but this is next level!”

“I don’t understand,” Dipper ran a hand over the imprint, feeling only the normal texture of his skin, “What did you say to activate that gold stuff? What did it mean?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t comprehend it. There’s a lot for you to learn kid, and we don’t have the time for it now.” Bill glanced to the door of the hospital room, like he expected someone to barge in at any moment. 

“I’ve had to be around you for the sum total of two hours and I’m already tired of your cryptic bullshit.”

“Oh boy, do you have a lot to look forward to!” Bill spiraled up until he was floating a few feet over Dipper’s head, causing the man to lean back against his pillows in order to keep the demon in sights. “Now put on your biggest and brightest smile! Stanley is here and he brought Shooting Star.”

△▽▲▽△ 

When Mabel had burst through the door and threw herself at Dipper in a bone-crushing hug, it had been more than a bit of a shock. 

She was suppose to be in California, studying for finales and finishing up her current projects for class. Yet there she was sitting next to him in the backseat of Stan’s car, on their way to the Mystery Shack. 

Back at the hospital they had sat on his bed for what felt like no time at all catching up while Stan worked on getting Dipper released. Turns out Mabel had convinced every one of her professors to let her take her finales early so she could shave the last couple weeks of the term off to visit Gravity Falls. In typical Mabel fashion, all her art pieces and projects were finished and ready to turn in anyway. 

Now, they were nearing the Shack and Mabel was happily chatting away about her classes and all the friends shes made over the last year. 

Bill was behind her, watching the town go by outside the window.

Dipper was listening to her stories about college life of course, but at the same time he was mentally figuring out how he was going to break the news to her. 

How did one tell their twin of twenty years that they had been attacked one sunny day and the release of the life-energy from their body powered a spell that brought back a dangerous and unpredictable demon that they then made a deal with and are now in eternal servitude to in return for getting to stay on this plane of existence? 

He supposed that in itself would work, but when talking about his own death he wanted to word it a little more eloquently; especially when telling Mabel. 

He wondered how Bill would react when Dipper explained the situation to his sister. Did the demon want this to be kept a secret, and stood against her knowing? It would be safer if less people knew. Dipper wouldn’t have to worry about Stan or Ford catching on. Maybe it would be safer for Mabel, too, if she was kept away from this aspect of his new life. 

Dipper went back and forth over every possible angle the whole car ride home, but in the end he knew he couldn’t keep this from her. She was the most important person in his life and she didn’t deserve to be lied to. They had always been open and honest with each other. That wasn’t going to change now. 

“Alright you knuckleheads, we’re here,” Stan declared as he pulled the old car into it’s usual spot in the back. “Sweetheart, help your brother into the house.”

“I can walk fine Grunkle Stan, I don’t need help,” Dipper grumbled. Mabel hopped out of the car and ran around the back, but Dipper opened his door and stepped out before she could get to it for him. 

Mable pulled a silly face and crossed her arms. He stuck his tongue out at her and they both giggled. 

“Come on grandpa, I’ve been given orders to assist you to the house,” She joked as she offered him an arm to hold.

“Oh no, gravity... getting heavy... can’t stay, upright,” Dipper leaned all of his weight against his twin as she tried to walk with him to the Shack. They stumbled and almost fell over more than once, and Mabel tried to act angry but Dipper could see the smile she couldn’t completely keep from her face.

After much pushing and playful shoving-- some of which even Grunkle Stan couldn’t avoid-- the three made it into the house. 

“Movie night tonight!” Mabel jumped into the small living room and yelled, arms in the air as she flashed them a huge smile, “It’s my first night back with Dip here, so I get to choose the genre, and I pick....” She tapped a finger against her chin and scrunched up her face in concentration.

“Don’t say romantic co-”

“Romantic comedy!” 

Dipper and Stan sighed at the same time, but didn’t have the will to actually argue. Mabel’s giddy attitude was always infectious. 

To her twin, it was obvious she was using all this happy energy as a front to cover up how she really felt about her brother being admitted to the hospital for reasons no one could figure out. He was almost as in-tune with her emotions as he was with his own, and when he had told them that he couldn't remember what happened, he could practically feel her anxiety spike. He felt a pang in his chest and steeled himself. He'd use the first opportunity to sit down and talk with her. 

“Hey Mabes, lets get you settled in. Are your bags in the car or?” 

“Nah bro-bro, I’ve been here a couple nights now. Beat you to it!” Mabel danced past him toward the stairs, slapping his arm on the way, “It’s _you_ who needs to get settled in. Need help up the stairs? I know how your knees are in your old age.” 

“Ha ha...” Dipper glared, “Aren’t you always bragging about how you’re the older twin?” He started up the stairs and Mabel followed.

“Mm,” She hummed, “Must be all your fretting making you age so fast. Somewhere along the way you surpassed me, Dippy.” 

“Ugh,” He pushed open the door to his attic bedroom and waited for his twin to enter before shutting it, “I thought we left that nickname in high school.”

“It’s making a comeback, whether you like it or not!” Mabel looked around his room, taking in all the new knickknacks he’d gathered over the time since she’d last been at the Shack. 

Magical items and mementos from his work dealing with mythical creatures around Gravity Falls were set up all around his room, covering almost every surface. Some items weren’t exactly magical in nature, but given to him by townspeople as thanks for his help; like the blue bird feathers and smooth sea shells he received for trapping and relocating a calygreyhound that had been sniffing around the Madison’s trash last November. 

“Mabes,” Dipper started, voice soft but serious, “I know I scared you with the whole coma thing, and I’m sorry.” Mabel was looking away from him, gently touching the holographic fairy wings he had stumbled upon in the forest, but he knew from the frown and shine that had pooled in her eyes that she was listening. 

A quick glance around the room told him that the demon wasn’t around, or at least, was keeping himself hidden. Either way, Dipper was grateful for the sense of privacy.

“When I told Stan at the hospital that I didn’t remember anything before waking up, I was lying.” The man took a step toward his sister, “Something happened and it’s kind of... not very good.” 

Mabel looked at him then, bottom lip caught between her teeth and eyebrows drawn, trying not to let the worried tears she had kept suppressed for days fall from her eyes. “Kind of not very good? Dipper you’re suppose to be a writer.”

“I know, that’s why I’m not published yet.” He smiled at her attempt to lighten the mood, but didn’t have the heart to laugh in the moment. “But listen, I don’t know how to say this without it sounding totally crazy...” He took a deep breath and met her eyes, “Basically, I died. Was killed. I don’t know by who and I don’t know why, but it happened, and I... made a deal to fix it.” 

There was no immediate or major change to his twin’s face for a solid six seconds after he had finished talking. Dipper had kept count. 

“Mab-”

“Bill Cipher.”

“I- Come again?”

“You made a deal with Bill fucking Cipher. I have no idea how he came back, but it was him wasn’t it?” 

“...Yes? but I can explain that too.” 

“Oh my god,” Mabel took a seat on the end of his bed and held a hand to her forehead, “Oh my GOD Dipper.” 

“Yeah. I kinda said the same thing.” Dipper took a next next to his sister, back hunched in mental exhaustion. 

“I mean, I had a feeling it was something like this, something weird and all magically, but Bill, Dipper?! I know I don’t have to remind you what he’s done.”

“I know, but I didn’t exactly have a choice Mabes, I could see through my own chest.”

Mabel’s face paled even more than it was and Dipper was glad she was sitting on his bed in case she passed out. He set a hand on her shoulder just in case. 

“I _knew_ you were going to get mixed up in some deep shit when you made the choice to stay in Gravity Falls, I knew you would,” She shook her head slowly, “I had just hoped it would’ve been like... you joined a pack of werewolves or something. You could have been a werewolf Dipper, but somehow you managed to be indebted to the asshole I thought we killed!” 

She whipped around to face her brother and leveled him with a stare, “Speaking of, what do you owe him exactly?” 

“Uh,” Dipper scratched the back of his neck and thought about how to best word this next part, “Honestly? I think I’m like his demonic slave or something.”

Mabel slapped him on the arm, and this time she didn’t do it out of sibling love. “Dipper!” 

“I know! I’m sorry! But I was _dead_ Mabel, I wouldn’t have ever seen you again, or mom or dad, or the Stans... Our last conversation would have been about which shirt you should wear to best get the attention of that one girl in your art history class. Would you really have been okay with that?” 

“I would never be okay with you dying, Dipper,” Mabel sniffed, her voice was wavering, “But it’s just... I wish it wasn’t _him_. I don’t trust him, especially not with you.”

“I don’t either, really. But it was make a deal with Bill and be at his command, or die a painful and lonely death and never see you again.” Dipper moved his hand from his twin’s shoulder to wrap an arm around her. “If I was given the chance, I wouldn’t change my decision.”

“I don’t think I’d want you to either.” Mabel sighed and leaned into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. “This just really sucks.” 

“Yeah... Genuine sibling hug?”

Mabel snorted. “Genuine sibling hug.” 

“Now,” After the twins pulled away, Mabel stood and looked down at her brother, “tell me just how Bill was able to survive. And leave no detail out!”

“Yeah, yeah.” There was a flash of blue in the corner of his room and the man looked over to see the demonic yellow triangle of interest floating above his dresser. Bill’s eye was on him and he held what looked like a pile of fur in his stubby black hands. Upon closer inspection the man realized they were several severed rabbit’s feet, still dripping with blood. Dipper ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “Just... don’t tell Stan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how to format Skype conversations in writing so... have whatever this is. Mabel uses her laptop most of the time so her sentences are hardly ever capitalized/use proper grammar (me too Mabes). 
> 
> I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are my own! Sorry!
> 
> OH and I set up a tumblr for this fic too!  
> >decipherbill.tumblr.com  
> It isn't strictly "Sinner" posts... Once in a while I'll reblog a post that reminds me of everyone's favorite asshole, Bill, or something pertaining to this story maybe.  
> Follow it for updates, or to see when a new chapter is out! Or just to talk to me outside of AO3, whatever you wanna do.
> 
> (Before anyone gets upset over the whole getting Bill as a tattoo thing: I mean no harm and mostly I was poking fun at myself because I got the little shit tattooed on me. He hurt like hell, but I have zero regrets.)


End file.
